Torment
by harrypotterislife
Summary: George has become a different person, dark and tormented. Hermione wants to help him feel again.
1. Admittance

She waited for him to walk out of the door. She sat, not too far from where he would come out. Her long, bushy hair was now black and straight, her eyes green, and her face tweaked just enough to be unrecognizable. She couldn't remember how many times she'd done this before, but it had been going on for nearly three months, and she doubted it would stop soon.

The door opened and he walked out. He looked drastically different from his days at Hogwarts. He wore his red hair long, nearly as long as hers, to hide his "deformity" as he had once called it. She could tell, even under the cloak and robes, that he had gained serious muscle. She could see the traces of scars on his face and noticed the lack of the twinkle in his eyes and mischievous grin on his face. She got up and followed as he made his way down Knockturn Alley.

This had started when Hermione had been shopping in Diagon Alley and heard heckles and shouts coming from Knockturn. Looking in to investigate, she saw a crowd of filthy people surrounding something against the wall. She pushed her way through the crowd, and when she got to the front she saw two men slashing another with their wands. The man on the ground was putting up no fight. Instantly, she shouted "Expeliarmus!" and grabbed their wands. "I'm a ministry official. You have no right to assault this man—"

Suddenly the victim spoke, "Hermione, give them their wands back and leave." She looked closer at the man. Under the grime from the road, she recognized him.

"George!" She was so shocked, she barely noticed the men take their wands back and disapparate. "Why are you here? Where have you been?"

Standing up and dusting himself off, George looked at her dispassionately. "That is none of your business," he said and walked away.

"But we've all been so worried. Your mother is crazy with worry; we haven't seen you in over a year." She followed as she spoke. "You don't answer the door when any of us stop by, you don't send owls, you don't answer ours. Won't you stop in and see your mother at least?"

"No," was all he said, and then he turned down an alley and she couldn't follow any more.

His flagrant disregard for his health disturbed her. He had put up no fight against his assailants, and she worried that this was a common occurrence. She decided to make sure he was safe. That was why she followed him twice a week as he journeyed into Knockturn Alley on business ventures. When Fred had died, everyone knew George wouldn't be the same. In the four years since the war had ended, George had come to the burrow three times, all within a month of the final battle. He closed the joke shop, but remained in the apartment above. No one had seen him in years.

She kept a safe distance behind him, blending in to her surroundings as best as she could. A man jumped from behind a stand in front of her and crept toward George. She stunned him quietly and pushed him back from the road. This was what she did every trip. The inhabitants of Knockturn weren't too keen on war heroes, and they constantly tried to attack George. She continued following. When she looked forward, she noticed George's eyes on her. Quickly, she made herself interested in a stall of crawling things. When she looked back, he was gone.

Knowing where he was going, she turned down the street leading to his usual haunt. As she turned the corner, however, she found herself face-to-face with George. "Why are you following me," he asked in a low tone.

Deepening her voice, she said "I don't know what you're talking about." She tried to move passed him, but his strong body was unmoving.

"Do I look like an idiot, Hermione?" He saw through her charms easily. "Stop following me. I'm perfectly fine on my own."

"Not from what I've seen. You don't even try to defend yourself. If you won't take care of yourself someone has too," she said, starting to get angry.

He seemed angry as well. "It is none of your business. Go, now."

"No! I won't have your death on my conscience. You don't care if you are hurt, I can't leave you alone." His blue eyes narrowed and he backed her against the wall.

"I've lost everything. I'm not whole anymore." The anger in his face changed to anguish. "I don't feel anything but pain. It's like I'm dead already. If pain makes me feel something, some semblance of life, what's so wrong with that?"

Hermione softened. She could feel his body against hers, his breath against her lips, and she could help but become excited, even in his emotional state. "You haven't lost everything. You have a family that loves you, you have friends. People care about you, George. I care about you."

Her heart began to beat faster as he looked into his eyes. She could feel her nipples harden as his eyes narrowed and he moved closer to her. "Do you want to help me feel, Hermione?" he asked, rubbing his body against her, letting her feel his hardness. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed. "Tell me you want me," He whispered into her ear as he bit her lobe, hard.

"I want you."


	2. Belief

"Take off the disguise," George told her as he began to nibble down her neck. She quickly complied, pulling her wand out and reversing the charms. The long black hair became brown and curly, her eyes turned brown, and the face became her own. She gasped as he bit hard on her neck and felt the warmth of excitement begin to pool. He brought his hands to her chest and began to tweak her hard peaks before lowering his mouth and biting one through her robes. She moaned, and the loud noise made her aware of their surroundings.

"Um... George," She moaned as he continued, ignoring her. "We can't do this here."

"Shut up." He grabbed her thighs and wrapped them around his waist as he pulled her away from the wall. She gasped and clung to his neck as he carried her down another side street and pushed her into a small alcove. Pushing her against a wooden door, he released his hands from her thighs and brought them to the front of her robes. Quickly, he ripped the front down and buried his face into her chest. He licked, suckled, and bit, leaving her panting for more. He slid one hand under her robes and back two her thighs. He slowly drew his nails down her soft skin, eliciting a hiss from her mouth.

"George," she moaned, lost in desire. "More." He brought his hand to her center and flicked her bud as she arched against him. Making a noise that could only be called a growl, George shoved two fingers into her wetness with quick pumping. Hermione typically abhorred such rough treatment, but today it brought her quickly to a screaming orgasm. She nearly collapsed against him, but he wouldn't allow a moments rest. Pushing his cloak to the side and just unzipping his pants, he grasped his hardness. Pumping it with his hand, he took her mouth again.

He rubbed himself along her entrance, letting the wetness coat him, before thrusting hard and deep. She screamed, and nearly came again from the sensation. He was enormous. The stretching felt glorious, and the hint of pain she felt when he invaded her so harshly amplified the pleasure. For a while, he didn't move. "So fucking tight," he said between gritted teeth. He thrusted again, hard as the first time, and they both almost came from the sensation. He began to move, slower, and the rhythm became bearable. Both gasped and groaned at each stroke, until Hermione was coming again. Feeling able to let himself go, the rhythm became deep and fast again. As contractions gripped her again, she felt teeth sink into her neck, hard enough to draw blood, and felt George let go inside of her.

She nearly fell to the ground when his knees buckled. They stood, still intertwined, while both caught their breath. He drew away, head down, and muttered a cleansing spell for them both before buttoning his pants and starting away. "Wait! George!" She chased after him, adjusting her robes. "Stop!" She stood in front of him, blocking his path.

"Leave me alone, Hermione," he said, still not looking at her. She noticed a small trickle of wetness on his chin. She lifted her hand to his face tried to lift his head. He slapped her hand away, but she knew what the moisture was. He was crying.

"Isn't this a better way to feel than hurting yourself?" she asked him. He ignored her and tried to keep walking, but she stood in his way. Instead of moving, she opened her arms and hugged him. He stood stiff in her arms. "It's alright." She heard him choking back tears.

"It's not alright. It's never going to be alright. He's gone… forever. How am I supposed to go on like nothing changed?" He still stood stiff against her, but he wasn't fighting to get away.

"You're not. But he wouldn't want this. He would want you to be happy, not hurting yourself. I'll help you. I'll be here for you." His crying, thought still silent, began to rack his body. He clung to her and let himself cry for Fred for the first time.


	3. Decisions

He led her away from the dark streets with his hand over hers. Both said nothing. When they got to his flat, he threw her to his bed and removed her clothes with a spell. Throwing off his cloak, he lowered himself over her. He tasted her mouth again, gentler than he was before, but still with a hint of danger as he nipped her lips and tongue. His hands played with the tangled mass of curls before twisting it in his fist and pulling sharply. She gasped and arched against the bed, enjoying the slight pain like she never had before. A sly grin, a gruesome shadow of his former smile, flickered on George's face.

He began to nip her neck, avoiding the throbbing wound he had left earlier. Slowly, he kissed the red, raised mark he'd left. When she moaned, he traced the mark with his tongue, causing a combination of pleasure and pain inside of Hermione. When she choked out his name, he grinned again before moving his ministrations to her chest. He suckled one hard while plucking the other. Switching sides, he began to ferociously nibble her breast. The pressure was nearly unbearable, to the point that she thought she may climax from it. When she was panting and quivering on the bed, begging for more, he moved his head between her legs.

George licked and sucked, and soon, Hermione felt herself release. As she broke apart against his face, he continued to suck, before biting down, ever so gently. She came again, screaming, overwhelmed by the sensations. As he began to continue, she knew she could take no more. Pulling on his robes, she drew him up her body. Kissing him, she drew his robes up over his body. She ran her hands over his torso, ripe with muscle as she expected. She could feel the strength in his arms, shoulders, and back as she moved her hands over them. She reached back and gripped his ass, finding it perfectly taut and defined. When she dug her nails into the flesh, he growled. Pushing her down, he pulled her legs to his shoulders and quickly thrust into her.

Prepared for the amazing sensation, he thrust again, fast. She screamed. The position made him feel even bigger than he was. Keeping up the steady, quick pace, he leaned over her, pushing her knees to her own shoulders. The change of position caused him to rub against the right spot inside of her. Soon she was calling for Merlin, the gods, and George. She came, screaming so loud she was sure the people in Diagon Alley would hear. George, already on the brink, spilled over hard and violently inside of Hermione.

Moving off of her body, he collapsed beside her. She rolled over, put her head on his chest, and fell asleep. When she awoke, he was gone. The flat was empty and it was night, so she dressed and Apparated home. When she crawled into bed next to Ron, she didn't wake him, but lay restless, thinking about George and the kiss she was positive she had felt upon her forehead before she had fallen asleep in his arms.


	4. Moral Inventory

AN: Sorry it took so long to update, but I made it extra long to make up for it :]

Thanks for reading, please review, criticism is welcome. I won't wait so long next time, promise.

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Hermione did love Ron. He was a constant; he had always been there and always would be. They had been married for about a year, but in all the time they had been together, she had never felt the passion, the excitement, or the rush of emotions she felt with George. It was expected of her to sleep with him and she did, but it was bland and unfulfilling. She had not once orgasmed from him, though she faked it each time to satisfy him. She loved him, but she wasn't in love with him, and she knew now she never would be.

She didn't resent Ron for trapping her in this emotionless marriage. On the surface their relationship was a decent one. While they quarreled the same way they had in school, they rarely remained angry. Ron did his best to make her happy, seeming shocked he had actually landed her as his bride. They both worked most of the day, Hermione doing her best to provide equal treatment to all magical creatures and Ron assisting Harry Potter with his Minister of Magic bid. Her odd hours following George had gone unnoticed and coming in late at night was nothing new.

Hermione dozed fitfully that night, pondering what she had done. Strangely, she felt no guilt about sleeping with her husband's brother. The truth was, she hadn't only done it to make George feel again. She herself had been aching for passion and spark in her life. She, who seemed to have a perfect life, was as empty on the inside as he was. And perhaps if she made George come to his senses and return to his family, she would feel as if she had done the right thing. When the sun rose, she showered and dressed for work, leaving Ron to sleep a few more minutes.

George had watched Hermione sleep for a while before leaving the flat. He prowled the streets, doing his best to look menacing and unapproachable while a wave of turmoil crashed inside of him. True, he felt sensations, felt human while she pleased him and he pleased her, but now that they weren't, the pain hit him. He doubled over, collapsing against the wall. He couldn't breathe, it was like someone punched him in the gut. Grief and sorrow crashed through him, bringing tears to his eyes again. _Gone._ He was gone; his other half, his best friend, his brother was gone. He sat there for some time in the dark, silent tears flowing for the boy with the wicked grin. _ Fred_.

When he returned to his flat, she was gone. He wondered now if feeling was worth it. If he wasn't better off empty than with this grief hitting him like a knife. But then he remembered her soft skin, her shining eyes, and her parted lips as he took her. _Yes_ he thought. She was worth it. Now he realized the many questions he had for her. What had become of his family? What was she doing with her life? Anticipation coursed through him at the idea of seeing her again, not only for the sexual pleasure. He fell asleep as the sun rose, dreaming of the kiss he'd given her while she dozed.

A loud crack awoke him at around five. He had slept for nearly twelve hours, and felt rejuvenated. As he got up to investigate the noise, he saw her. Hermione had Apparated to his flat, and she currently stood in his kitchen, wearing ministry robes and with her hair pulled into a bun. He though she looked sexy as hell. As he prowled towards her, she gazed at him, eyes lustful.

George was shirtless, and her eyes were drawn to the hard planes of his chest and stomach. She reached out to touch him, running her hands over the strong muscles, dragging her nails down the grooves and bumps. He shuddered, and clasped her hands as he drew towards her. Their lips met, and this time it was slow, testing, exploring. Soon, she drew away and led him to the bedroom. She pushed him down on the same sheets he'd taken her on the night before and wanted to give him the same pleasure he'd given her.

George looked up at her, leaning on his elbows, showing off his muscles in a way that made her clench in longing. She removed her robes, undid her hair and crawled over him in just her lingerie, loving the way he devoured her with his eyes. She began with his broad shoulders, kneading, and kissing. She sucked his neck as her hands worked down his chest soon her mouth followed, kissing and licking a path down his stomach. When she reached his pelvis, she took off the drawstring pants and exposed him in all his glory.

He was hard, and she could see the moisture at his tip. He growled as she scratched down his thighs, spreading them to crawl between. She grasped his shaft in her palm and started stroking. He bent forward as if to grab her but she stopped and coyly shook her finger back and forth and said "Stay." She lowered her head down and flicked the moisture with her tongue, causing him to moan and buck forward. She took him in her mouth and he moaned again, thrusting into her mouth.

He was large, and it took a lot to hold him as he thrusted into her, but she continued torturing him with her tongue before he begged her to stop. She crawled up his body, looking every bit a seductress in her lacy black panties with her hair falling around her. He reached up and ripped the fragile cloth, exposing her glorious breasts and center to his view. She leaned down and kissed him deep, rubbing her nipples over his chest and her wetness against his hard length. He bucked against her and entered her quick making them both groan. Slowly, she began rocking against him, bouncing her chest in his face as she quickened the pace, riding him hard. Her hair fell around them like a curtain, and each strand teased where it touched him, setting his skin on fire. He grasped her hips and began to thrust up hard and fast, savoring her moans. When he leaned forward to take one of her hard, pink peaks into his mouth, she came hard around him, and the glory of her moans took him over the edge.

She lay on top of him, panting for some time before rolling off and curling next to him. She kissed his neck while he recovered. He remembered his curiosity and decided to ask his questions. "What has become of my family?" he asked, turning to her and, to her surprise, taking her in his arms.

"Your dad started a muggle study and liaison department in the ministry. Your mum is still your mum, but she constantly worries about you." At this, he frowned. "Bill and Fleur had a baby, Victoire last fall. Charlie is back in Romania, and your mum says he's got himself a pretty gypsy down there he wants to marry. Ginny and Harry got married along with Percy and Penelope Clearwater, the girl he dated in school, but you should know that from the wedding invitations you were sent."

He shook his head. "I didn't open any mail from my family. What about Ron?"

Dread overtook Hermione. She thought he'd gotten their invitation and knew they were married. Would he turn her away if he knew? She knew she had to tell him, so she steeled up her Gryffindor courage. "I thought you knew George, I'm sorry."

"What? Has something happened to him? Was he hurt?" He looked stricken.

"No, nothing like that. It's… well… we're married, George. We have been for almost a year." Realization flared in his eyes and he backed away, rolling out of the bed.

"No, I couldn't have. This couldn't have happened, it shouldn't have." He tossed her robes to her as he backed away. "You need to leave." He himself grabbed his wand and Apparated away, leaving her with a stricken glance, filled with longing and regret.


End file.
